A Simple Conversation
by Invader Phoenix
Summary: Whenever they had these meetings, he would ask her about her life. She never asked about what life was like for him- his family, his home, or his friends. But as she thought about it, Ib found that she wanted to know. Light, fluffy story.


**Ah, my first story for the Ib fandom! I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave constructive criticism. **

**I own nothing.**

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"In art class, the teacher had us paint pictures for our big project. We have until next week to finish them."

"I see. What are you painting, Ib?"

The girl took a bite out of her macaroon. She had been meeting up with Garry every so often at his favorite cafe to talk and snack on macaroons. Ib had never tasted one until they came here for the first time, and she found that she quite liked the cookies. After swallowing she answered him, "Roses."

"Roses, eh? Any reason why you chose to paint them?" Garry asked.

"I think they're pretty," Ib said. "And after the gallery...they seemed like one of the only good things that were there. Everything else was sad and scary, but the roses were full and blooming as long as we were safe. Like hope. So I painted them. Red and blue."

Garry smiled. "That's a great idea, Ib. Will you show me when it's finished?"

The girl nodded. "Sure. But it's not very good so far..."

"I'm certain that it will be beautiful," said the young man with a smile. "Besides, I love just about any artwork compared to Guertena's."

Ib let out a small grin. Garry was a good friend; he always listened to what she had to say, encouraged her, and tried to make her laugh. She was a quiet girl, but she felt safe opening up to Garry. He wasn't like most other adults she knew. Ib was sure that he was genuinely interested in what she told him. Also unlike a lot of other grown-ups, he could make her laugh easily. And, after going through what those two had, it was impossible not to share some sort of bond. Ib had found that it made her feel relief to open up to someone rather than keeping most of her emotions inside of her, especially when the person she talked to was never harsh to her.

The only thing that bothered her was that she didn't know much about him. Whenever they had these meetings, he would ask her about her life. She never asked about what life was like for him- his family, his home, or his friends. But as she thought about it, Ib found that she wanted to know.

"Hey, Garry...?"

"Yes, Ib?" he said with his usual grin.

"What do you do every day?" Ib asked quietly. "I go to school, but I don't know what you do."

"I go to school, too," Garry replied. "College. I started back in August."

"College...?"

"College is like a school for young adults. You study things that will help you have a successful career."

Ib nodded, beginning to understand.

"I study literature and art. I went to the gallery that day in order to do research for an assignment. Guertena made many famous paintings. He was quite talented, but I can't say I'm much his fan anymore." Garry paused and tapped his chin for a moment. "I've heard that most great artists are a little...eccentric, but I believe that Guertena takes it to a bit of an extreme."

"What does 'eccentric' mean?"

"It means odd or unusual. Kind of weird. Some people will use it in place of 'crazy.'"

"Oh," Ib said. "I guess Guertena was kind of crazy..."

"Sometimes I wonder how that whole alternate gallery world could have existed. How the paintings could have come to life." He leaned back in his chair. "Maybe it wasn't possible. There could have been other factors in play, ones that we cannot understand."

"I think you're right," the girl said with a nod. "Do you still like art after what happened?"

"As long as it isn't trying to kill me."

"Would you ever go back to the gallery?"

"Maybe," he said. "If I was required to for school or something, or someone I knew really wanted to go, there is a possibility. But anyone would have a difficult time convincing me."

"Me, too," Ib agreed. "After you left the gallery, my mom and dad found me and asked me if I liked the exhibit. I just said that some if the art was pretty." She paused. "Do you have parents?"

"I do, but I don't live with them anymore. I moved into a little apartment before I started college. I go to see them a lot, though."

"That's good," Ib said with a small smile. "Then you don't have to miss them much."

Garry laughed. "Sometimes I miss living with them, but I'm adjusting. It's a part of growing up, I guess."

The mention of growing up brought another question into Ib's mind. "What was it like when you were a kid?"

"Well, I went to school, just like you do," said Garry. "It was a large school, with lots of children. I wasn't very popular. I only had a couple of friends."

"Why?" Ib asked, confused. "You're so nice and fun to be around!"

"I guess I just wasn't the kind of boy the others wanted to be around," he said with a hint of sadness. "I was rather shy."

"You weren't very shy around me," Ib said.

"Perhaps I've changed a little since then," he said. He tilted his head to the side. "I'd say you're a bit shy, too, Ib."

She nodded. "I don't talk to a lot of people, not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't really know how to," Ib said. "And I learned not to talk to strangers."

"You talked to me," Garry said.

"You were hurt," Ib murmured. "I wanted to help you."

"Thank you for that, by the way," Garry added, a familiar twinkle in his eye.

Ib eyed him curiously. "You said you didn't have that many friends in school, Garry. Do you have any now?"

"Some," Garry replied. "I still come across as a bit odd to people. But I am who I am, you know?"

The girl nodded. "You are a little funny, Garry." She looked up at him and smiled. "But I like that about you. You're always smiling, you're always kind to me, and you're...brave. Very, very brave."

Garry returned her smile. "And you're my friend, too. You're sweet and strong. And you are definitely more brave than I am."

"Huh?"

"You made your way through that gallery alone, before we met. And I'm certain that you fared better than I did; you saved me, after all."

"It was still scary," she murmured.

"I understand. But bravery isn't about not being afraid. It's about doing the right thing or continuing on even when you're scared," he said. "And through it all, you never gave up."

Ib smiled. "Neither did you. And I wouldn't have made it out if I hadn't found you."

"We both know that I wouldn't have gotten out if it hasn't been for you, Ib," Garry said. "I guess we make a pretty good team."

"I'm glad to be on your team," Ib said with a giggle.

"Same here. Now..." Garry gestured to their empty plates. "How about another round of macaroons?"


End file.
